Strangeness at the Buy More
by Keldin
Summary: Emmett Milbarge didn't expect to get cut off at the knees quite THIS quickly... Xander-centered
1. Chuck Versus the Lawyer and the Pirate

Author's Note: This goes AU after Chuck Versus Tom Sawyer (season 2, episode 5) and after Not Fade Away (the Angel series finale). The first part of this is a simple review of part the above-named episode of Chuck. C&C is very much welcome! (Not to mention, it probably will prompt me to post faster too.)

---

All of the Buy More employees (whether that was a cover story or not) were standing in a line side-by-side. The store was trashed. It wasn't the first time, certainly, but it was a *bit* more conspicuous than when it happened during a day when the store manager was on vacation.

"Looks like you fools had one **hell** of a party," Michael "Big Mike" Tucker began, practically stalking - for a man his size, anyway - up to one end of the line. He turned to address the man standing there. "Congratulations, Bartowski. That's quite an achievement."

Chuck smiled, still a little dazed by having beaten the ancient video game - something noone else besides its creator had ever done - and found the secret code that saved much of California and the rest of the United States from missiles and radiation-based destruction.

But Big Mike moved on, stepping past all of the rest of the employees to end up at the far end of the line. "And, in light of today's events, I'd like to announce there's a new assistant manager amongst us."

"What'd I tell you, man? It's all comin' up Bartowski!" Morgan whispered, nudging Chuck in the side. Morgan and Chuck had been best friends for years and years, though noone could really say why. But then... you don't really **pick** your friends, do you?

"You all remember Mister Emmett Milbarge?" 'Big Mike' continued. Reactions were varied, but the sinking feeling in the employee's stomachs was had by all (except for one, whose real job **wasn't** in Buy More's Appliance Department, after all). "Mister Milbarge has volunteered to stay on for... well, as long as it takes."

Emmett Milbarge was an efficiency expect that had been sent by Buy More Corporate to, in Big Mike's words, 'tighten your slack-asses up.' It was like a television show, it was. The moment you said 'efficiency expert,' certain things were expected. And Emmett lived up to them, particularly the power-madness. No, Emmett being the new assistant manager was not a good thing, especially for a man who had been drafted into the spy business.

Emmett chuckled and began his own stalk up the line, having joined Big Mike at his introduction. "That's right, Michael. I'm afraid this branch is sick, and not the kind of sick that can be fixed with a Band-Aid. What this Buy More needs requires a surgeon. Someone who doesn't mind getting up to their elbows in guts." The new assistant manager had reached John Casey, whose real job had absolutely nothing to do with the Buy More. He was grinning and chuckling along, with no fear at all. Of course, being a trained killer pretty much trumps a power-hungry efficiency expert any day. "And that's exactly what I'm going to do," Emmett said, continuing past the Nerd Herd's only female employee, past Morgan, to stand in front of Chuck. He leaned in on the taller man, attempting to invade the man's personal space and staring into Chuck's eyes. "I'm going to reach in, wrap my fingers around the disease, and rip... it... out."

"I'm afraid that that is not what is going to be happening here," a new British-accented voice added. All eyes turned towards that voice. Two men were standing there, though noone had heard them come in - and, from the look on Big Mike's face, noone had seen him come in, nor expected him either.

The man who'd spoken wasn't particularly notable. He was tall and thin, with black hair slicked back and silver-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. Wearing an Armani suit and carrying an attache case, he looked like nothing so much as a corporate lawyer, though he was, perhaps, a bit young for it, clearly only in late twenties or early thirties.

The man standing behind him, however, is the one who drew the attention. A few inches shorter than the lawyer-type and probably several years younger, he was also wearing a suit. His suit, however, didn't have the elegant tailoring, nor the expensive label - it was more your standard variety work-wear. But that wasn't what drew the attention. What did that was the simple black eyepatch that covered his left eye.

"Oh, don't misunderstand me," the man with the British accent continued, now that he had everyone's attention. "Mister Milbarge is welcome to stay, as I have no orders regarding him. He will simply not be the assistant manager."

Chuck rocked back on his heels, his eyelids fluttering as he stared at the two men.

"Now, wait just a minute..." both manager and ex-assistant manager said at exactly the same time, only to be interrupted.

"Wesley Wyndam-Pryce. Wolfram and Hart Los Angeles, representing Buy More Corporate." Well, that explained the look, at least. "Now, if you would please show us to your assistant manager's office, we can take it from there."


	2. Chuck Versus the OneEyed Jack

Under the Orange Orange Yogurt Shop, across the street from the Buy More, three 'operatives' met in a high-tech chamber. The first of the three was Chuck Bartowski, host of the Intersect – all of the Intelligence information that the United States had, which had been 'downloaded' into the man's brain. He hadn't volunteered for the role, which put him in extreme danger on almost a weekly basis; the fact that he was the only source of this information was the fault of Chuck's one-time roommate from before he was kicked out of Stanford University, Bryce Larkin.

The other two people in the room were agents of the U.S. Government, assigned to protect Chuck. Agent Sarah Walker, CIA, played the role of Chuck's girlfriend as part of her cover story – and she worked at the Orange Orange in order to be nearby.

"What the **hell** is this?" Major John Casey, NSA, said, suppressing the desire to swear aloud. "The majority of this thing is redacted!"

John's cover story included him working at the Buy More itself, as an appliance salesman, as well as living in the same complex that Chuck did, with his sister and her fiancé.

"Yes, I'm afraid that's the case," came the voice from the liquid plasma screen that the three operatives were facing. On said screen was Brigadier General Diane Beckman, the Director of the NSA. "You're seeing what I'm seeing as well."

"Alexander Lavelle Harris," Casey began. "Born April 1st, 1981. Man, that must have sucked as a birthday. Wonder how many times it got ignored. Or worse. He's from Sunnydale, California, born and raised."

At the name of that city, Sarah's eyes nearly flashed. She knew enough to turn her head away so that noone caught her sudden fear, her hair shadowing her reaction until she could regain her composure. Which took no time at all, really.

"Isn't that the town that fell completely into that sinkhole five years ago?" Chuck asked, looking at John.

"Yeah, that's the one. They call it 'Lake Sunnydale' now. Anyway, he had average to slightly-better-than-average grades in high school, but what looks like loads of disciplinary problems." He flipped from one page to another and back again. "Especially after about halfway through his sophomore year. Before that, looks like typical high school stuff. Lots of visits to the hospital, starting around mid-1986, with a sharp increase… also in his sophomore year of high school. Not much in the way of real serious injuries, except for a broken arm at one point. When the eye happened isn't even listed on here, despite the picture."

John tossed the picture down onto the table, the eye patch staring out of it. Sarah stared back for a few horrified moments before covering herself again, and stepping away from the table into a bit more shadow.

"Looks like he didn't go to college at all. Worked a number of jobs, then eventually settled down in construction, eventually becoming a foreman. After the Sunnydale Collapse, it looks like he joined a company called the International Watcher's Council and spent about three years traveling. From his passport, it seemed like it was mostly in Africa, but it looks like he spent a couple of months… oh, this is weird." John snorted. "It looks like he lived in Transylvania for a while. Heh. You vant to suck my blood?" He snorted again. "Dracula. Get it?" Casey thumped Chuck on the shoulder, hard enough to move him, and he did it pretty much without noticing what he'd done.

Sarah was glad that she'd moved away; Casey's imitation brought up bad memories that she really didn't want to think about. But she had herself under control now.

"But I don't get this," Casey said, looking back up at the monitor. "These look like military files that have all been black-lined here. Kid's got no military service listed on his record. What's the deal?"

"Apparently, whatever it is is above my pay grade," the General responded. The shocked look on the three faces around her matched the way she felt. She was the Director of the NSA! How was it that she didn't have access to the full records of a 27-year-old construction worker, especially one that the Intersect had flashed on? It was impossible!

"The records for Mister Harris, as well as several of his known associates – including at least one British National – have likewise been secured," she continued. "Apparently the information is only available to the President and the Joint Chiefs."

"Well, I'll be a…" Casey shook his head. "So, what do we do about it? If he's in the Intersect, there must be some reason for it."

"There's nothing we can do," the General said. "I can't go to the Joint Chiefs or the President and try to break this until we have something more than this. Until he does something wrong, you'll just have to keep an eye on him, and keep him separate from the Intersect. It's possible that he's a covert agent of some kind, sent to retrieve Mister Bartowski."

"I didn't get that sense from him," Chuck said, after a moment. "Then again, I didn't get much sense of him at all, since he didn't say anything while we were there."

The General barely suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. Chuck Bartowski was not exactly the best judge of character around, and, even if he was, 'operational security' just didn't seem to something they could beat into his head. "In any case, you're dismissed for now. Keep a sharp eye out."

"Not much else we **can** do, it seems," Casey said, flipping to the last page in the dossier. "Holy crap!"

That, of course, drew the attention of the other two, but the General wasn't surprised, seeing as she knew what was on that page. "Permit to carry. Federal license to concealed carry? Permit to purchase full-automatic firearms and military-grade ammunition?! What the hell is this?! **The guy's only got one eye!**" Casey's voice was rising with each word. It was a good thing that the area was soundproofed. "The issue dates go back to when he was out of the country, and he was **still** issued them. This guy looks like some kind of Fed-" He paused, glanced up at the others, and got himself back under control. "-eral Officer or something." It was more than that, though. Most Federal Officers didn't have the right to purchase fully-automatic weaponry.

The General was silent, her lips pressed together so hard that they were beginning to turn white. "All I can tell you is to keep an eye on him, Major Casey, Agent Walker. Once again, you're dismissed."

The final comment drew attention back to the hiding-in-shadows Sarah, with both men turning their heads towards where she was standing. Both turned back as the General signed off, but Chuck did a double-take, his brow furrowing. He didn't say anything, though. At least not until John had left, muttering to himself.

"Sarah? Sarah, are you all right?" He'd gotten up and walked over to her, without her even noticing. Some part of her mind warned her that this wasn't a good thing, that him being able to move in on her without her realizing it meant that she trusted him way too much. But she didn't think much about that.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. I was just trying to figure out what all this means," she lied. "Go on ahead. I'll be up in a minute. I'll put everything away."

"Oooookay," Chuck said, looking like he was a bit worried. But he headed up the stairs as Sarah put words to actions and began to put the folder together in order to put it away. With the door closed and Sarah left all alone, she headed over to the locked cabinet and opened it. She flipped open the front of the manila folder and stroked the taciturn photo of Alexander Harris for a moment, her face sad.

'What happened to you, Xander?' she thought to herself, then closed the file, put it away, and went back upstairs to think over a frozen yogurt.


	3. Chuck Versus the Consequences

Meanwhile, back at the Buy More...

"Now, just a minute here...," Big Mike and Emmett protested in a single voice, only to be interrupted by the lawyer-type.

"There's no need to have this discussion, such as it will be, in public," Wesley began, pressing his glasses up onto the bridge of his nose. "I do believe I asked for the Assistant Manager's office, did I not?"

Big Mike actually growled. Coming from such a big man, one might expect that reaction to induce fear, but it seemed almost as if the corporate lawyer and his one-eyed 'flunky' didn't notice. The store's manager turned to the others and nearly snarled, "Get back to work!" The glare he aimed at Wesley didn't seem to bother the man at all. "This way." And then the three of them - Wesley, Big Mike, and Emmett - headed towards the back of the store.

This left the one-eyed man there, a bemused look on his face, as the employees of the Buy More broke from their positions to return to their duties (or, as more likely to be the case, goofing off).

Chuck edged away, trying to get John Casey's attention. He was trying to be sneaky about it. He was failing. Casey had moved away in a different direction, but moved to join Chuck before his attempts to gain the NSA operative's attention made him look like he was having a seizure of some kind. The both of them left - not together, of course - through the front door.

What they didn't know is that Xander was watching them. His eye narrowed in thought, even as he turned aside to catch the attention of one of the employees. He raised a hand to call attention to him, but didn't reach out to touch. "Miss Wu, isn't it?"

Anna Wu, the sole female member of Buy More's Nerd Herd, stopped and turned, a surprised look on his face. "Yes? How do you know my name?"

Xander smiled, "I know the names of everyone here, actually. But that can be discussed later. I was wondering if you could show me where I can find a dolly, and also where, exactly, the loading dock is? I have some things I need to bring in, and I could only guesstimate from driving around back."

"Things to bring in?" Anna blinked a couple of times, her tone curious.

"Yes," Xander replied. "They were a bit too large to bring through the front doors. Plus, the dock is probably closer to where they need to be."

"Oh. All right. Sure. Follow me," Anna responded.

"Anywhere," Xander said, his own tone turning cheekily playful. '_Why does she look so familiar?_' he thought to himself. '_Even moreso now than when I first saw her picture._'

* * * * *

"It'll do," Wesley said, as he looked at the Assistant Manager's Office. The office was a bit bare, as it only had a desk and chair in it. Wesley set his attache cast on the former and settled down on the latter. "Now, as I was saying, Mister Milbarge here is welcome to remain, but he cannot be assistant manager."

Both of the other men in the office were angry. Big Mike didn't like someone else in what was the equivalent of a position of power in his store. At least, not someone he hadn't appointed himself. And Emmett... well, he was angry because he had called the corporate offices to let them know he was taking the job, and they had okayed it. And then he'd called his 'girlfriend' and told her he wouldn't be back for a bit, and, as a result, she'd broken off their relationship. For a moment, he once again wondered why her tone had had a sense of what sounded like **relief** to it.

What Emmett didn't know wouldn't kill him. His so-called girlfriend had been trying to get Emmett off her case for months. She'd gone out with him on one date, one week when she was feeling lonely, and he'd latched on like a barnacle. Too nice a girl to really do anything, she'd been glad that he was gone so often to various stores all over the continent. So, for her, this whole thing was a godsend.

"You should really calm down, Mister Tucker," Wesley continued. "You'll give yourself a coronary the way you're going." Just because the store manager's anger didn't disturb him didn't mean he didn't notice it. "Now, Buy More Corporate has asked me to look in on things because there have been some disturbing trends starting in this store lately. What I just saw outside there - and don't believe for a minute that I haven't already heard about this... this... video game exposition you've had here - is just the icing on the cake. Last week, Corporate Accounting found a huge up-tick in registered sales for high-priced items. Laptop computers, television sets, major kitchen appliances, and the like. Roughly a 450% increase. I am here to determine whether anything illegal happened to cause this, since your numbers and sales don't match."

"Well, yes," Big Mike said, finally smiling. "I was on vacation, see..."

But, once again, he was interrupted. "So this happened when you were on vacation? And you didn't call whoever you left in charge on it? I think I'll have to go even more thoroughly over the store's records."

"So, you're going to be here temporarily to look over what's been going on here," Emmett said, his tone greasy.

"Oh, no. Don't misunderstand me," Wesley responded. "**I** am not the one that will be taking over your assistant manager's position. That role will be taken by Alexander." He paused for a long moment, noticing the lack of recognition in their eyes. "That would be the young man who came in with me just a few moments ago. And it will not be a temporary position, not if these kinds of things continue to happen..."

OOC: Julia Ling, who portrays Anna Wu on Chuck, also portrayed one of the potentials during season 7 of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.


	4. Chuck Versus the Misconceptions

It didn't take long to appropriate a dolly, or to find the human-sized access to the loading docks behind the Buy More. Anna lingered once they got there, her curiosity overwhelming her.

"Aha!" Xander said. "Knew I wasn't too far off, yep." He crouched down and hopped off the dock itself to land on the asphalt below. Striding over towards a black paneled van that was about thirty feet away, he stripped off his suit jacket and tie, revealing a cross-the-shoulder holster. Anna was taken aback. She hadn't even noticed that the one-eyed man was armed. For that matter, she was alarmed as well. Why would someone need to be armed here? And, worse yet, why would someone armed know who she was?

Xander reached the van, opened the door, and pulled himself up into the driver's seat, tossing tie and suit jacket over the passenger side. He considered for a long moment, then popped the loaded holster from its brace and turned to the lock-box between the two seats, opening it. He set the gun inside and snapped the box closed, pressing his thumb over the lock. Though Anna would certainly not see it, there was a brief flash of blue light. Xander chuckled for a moment as he recalled trying to convince Willow about creating these things. _Heh. Never know what you can learn from role-playing games, eh?_ he thought to himself, and not for the first time.

* * * *

_"Just imagine, Wills. If we had this kind of thing, so much could have been different!" He knew he wouldn't really have to convince Willow of too much, but he had to be seen making the effort. Everyone knew that Willow would do just about anything for him, just like he would do just about anything for her, but they weren't just the Scooby Gang anymore. Already they'd found over thirty new Slayers besides the ones who had survived Sunnydale._

_"Like with Ted, for example," he added. "If Buffy could have kept her Slaying supplies somewhere a little more secret than a simple false bottom, she would never have had to go through that whole thinking-she-killed-a-human thing."_

_Buffy wasn't there at the moment, which was probably a good thing. Even though Ted had turned out to be the robot from hell (though not literally), it still wasn't a good idea to remind her of how she'd felt back then._

_"Look, I even have an idea how to do it. Here." Xander handed Willow a book, opened up to a bookmark and pointed to a particular part of it. "Think you can do this?"_

_Willow looked down at the book, and then where Xander was pointing. Her eyes widened, and her lips trembled, and then she started giggling like a maniac, beginning to turn as red as her hair._

_"What?" said Xander, though his lips were twitching too; laughter, like yawns, tended to be catching._

_"Xander, this says 'Secret Chest'! Are you trying to tell me something, Mister?!" And then she was laughing outright._

* * * *

After Willow'd gotten over her bout of semi-inappropriate laughter, she'd started researching. Now every Council vehicle had at least one of these built-in, usually a lock-box or some other kind of container, one that was bigger inside than outside, and one that locked using not only the owner's fingerprints, but their magical signature, along with those of anyone else they designated. Xander also had two more of these kinds of things in the van with him, though they were in a different form.

Xander hung an arm out of the driver's side window and, after turning it on, drove the van around towards where Anna Wu was still standing. Once he got close enough, he shifted to reverse to back the van up to where it would be easier to put stuff on the dolly, turned off the engine, and got out.

"Could you bring that down here?" he called up to the Nerd Herder, taking a moment to unbutton and roll up his sleeves. Anna shrugged and rolled the appropriated dolly down the ramp to where it met the van, and Xander popped the rear access open.

"Take a picture. It lasts longer," Anna ground out when she got to the van. Xander had been watching her the entire time, almost staring - or even leering - at her, though with the pinched look on his face, it probably wasn't quite like that.

"Huh?" Xander blinked, and looked around, realizing what the problem was. "Oh! I'm sorry. Hey, I know it sounds like a pick-up line, but have we met somewhere before?

"Um... no?" Anna replied, her own brow furrowing at the question.

"It's just that you look incredibly familiar, and I don't know why. I thought so when I first saw your picture, and it's even worse now meeting you for real. It's driving me bananas." With a shrug, Xander leaned into the van to grab ahold of something, and began to pull and yank at it. "Oh hey, lock the wheels, wouldya?"

"Need some help?" Anna asked, since it was the right thing to do.

"Eh?" Xander replied, turning his head and looking over. "Oh, no. That's all right. It's just stuck on something. I'll get it out in a second." He paused for a moment. "Actually, there is something you could grab for me, if you don't mind? There's a box right behind the driver's seat. You'll have to tilt the seat forward to grab it, but it's not heavy or anything like that. I just don't want to take a chance on it getting crushed."

"Sure," Anna said. She trotted around to the front of the van and opened the door, which was still unlocked. For that matter, the window was still open, so, even if had been locked, unlocking it would certainly not have been too much trouble.

"Um," came Anna's voice, as she stared in disbelief at what was in her hands after re-closing the door. "I'm not sure if I have the right thing here."

Xander looked up from the dolly, where he was negotiating a large - it looked like a bookcase or display case of some kind - onto it. "Huh? Oh, no, that's it. Thanks."

Anna stared for a few more seconds, and then turned more fully in the one-eyed man's direction. Her tone was strangled. "You have an emergency supply of Twinkies?!?!"

A beatific smile came to Xander's face. "Golden, creamy goodness. Mmmmmmmmm!" He shook himself abruptly, and then nodded. "Yes, that's one part of it. Could you hang onto that until we get up to my office and I can put them away?"

Anna just stared.

Xander went back to extracting things from the van, starting with what looked like a second display case.

Anna continued to stare for several long moments before what Xander had said caught up with her. "Your office? Wait. **You** are our new Assistant Manager?" And there was that strangled tone again, yep.

Perhaps luckily (or maybe the other way around), all Xander heard were the words and not the tone, mostly because he had crawled most of the way into the van to retrieve the next item, this time a large black duffel bag. It clinked - with what sounded like metal-on-metal - when he put it down on the dolly. "Yep. I'm the new Assistant Manager. That's why I know who all of you are. I glanced through your personnel files on the way here."

Xander scooted around to the passenger side of the van and opened the door, grabbing his jacket, tie, and what looked to be a case for a laptop computer out of it. Like the lock-boxes, the laptops that Council members carried were access-locked by fingerprint and magical signature, but Xander hadn't had to talk Willow into that - she knew better than anyone how important computer security was.

Slamming the door, he scooted back around to the dolly, and began to push it towards the ramp leading up to the dock. Anna followed in something of a daze. This guy carried a gun but kept an emergency supply of Twinkies? Or more than one? And that suit of his hid all kinds of interesting muscles too; don't think she hadn't noticed that.

"... you do?" She heard Xander say, apparently having only caught the tail end of the question.

"Sorry, what was that?" Anna asked.

"I asked what style you do?" Xander repeated, pushing on the dolly without apparent effort.

"Style?" she asked, not understanding what was, to her, a non-sequitur.

"Of martial arts," Xander said, having finally reached the top of the ramp.

Anna blinked, and then did it again. "How did you know I do martial arts?"

"I can see it in how you move," Xander replied. "I'm only blind in one eye." This last was said in a disarming tone, not an irritated one. He was joking about it. "The other one sees just fine."

Anna found herself staring again. This guy was **strange**. He could determine she was a martial artist just by looking at her, he carried a gun, and he had multiple emergency supplies of Twinkies if the black felt-tip pen markings on the box were to be believed. These things do not fit together, somehow.

"Hey, could you get the door?" Xander asked, patiently.

"Sure," Anna said, mostly on automatic. She scooted around Xander and headed through the doors, putting down the stops to keep them open. Xander pushed the dolly in, looking around the display cases on both sides to make sure he had clearance. Anna, still on automatic, kicked open the stops and let the doors swing shut behind them.

In the meantime, Xander had kept moving, making his way through the backside of the store. Momentum and all that. Better to not stop and have to start again. "So, where's the office?" he called back, and Anna hurried to catch up and bypass her one-eyed... manager?

Xander slowed as they moved past the first office. He nearly stopped until he saw the swordfish on the wall, which made him continue. Of course, the presence of a irate man yelling on the telephone probably helped make the decision. At the next office, he stopped and locked down the wheels of the dolly.

When the door opened, Wesley looked up. "You've got everything, Xander?"

Xander shook his head. "Mostly, but there's still some stuff in the van. I'll get it when I go back out to move it."

Wesley nodded as Xander ducked back out, coming back in with the clinking duffel bag. He looked around for a moment, then just put it on the ground. "I'm gonna need to get a couch or something in here. The desk will do, but I'll need a couple extra chairs too. Worst comes to worst, we can grab some from the store itself."

Wesley nodded again, not replying other than to look over the paperwork. Xander ducked out again, and nodded to his escort. "You can put that on the desk for now. I'll take care of it later."

Anna, still somewhat in her daze, nodded and headed into the office. Xander soon followed with the first of the display cases, which he positioned against the far wall. And, at that point, afforded Anna with her first look at the front of it.

Anna put down the case of Twinkies and wandered over to the display case, even while Xander disappeared outside again. She ran her fingers down the intricate designs - flowers and vines, mostly - that had been engraved into it. "Wow," she murmured, mostly to herself. "That's so pretty."

"Thank you," Xander said, making his way in with the second display case -- and incidentally proving that he had pretty good hearing. "I made it myself." He paused. "Well, actually, made both of them, but that's besides the point." Was he blushing? "I'm pretty good with my hands."

Xander muscled the second display case around the desk and behind it. This one was undecorated, left with the natural grain of the wood to draw the eye.

So, so her new Assistant Manager carried a gun, could figure out she did martial arts by looking at her, needed an emergency supply of Twinkies, and did his own woodwork too? Anna wasn't quite as dazed anymore. One can only take so many shocks before they start having less of an affect on you. She shook her head, trying to clear it.

"Hey, you all right?" Xander said, and Wesley looked up. The two men shared a look, and Xander shrugged, having no idea what the problem was.

"Ye... yeah, fine," Anna finally replied. "You want me to take the dolly back?"

"Sure," Xander said. "I'm going to go move the van back around. Thanks a lot, Miss Wu. I really do appreciate all the help."

"That's okay," Anna replied, distractedly. "I'm glad to help." And, with that, she left, taking the dolly back with her.

Xander tossed one more look back at Wesley, raised his eyebrows in a questioning manner, and shrugged again. Then he followed the Nerd Herder out to go move the van.

Author's Notes: For those interested, a public domain version of the spell that Xander was pointing out can be found at http://www..


	5. Chuck Versus the Stranger in the Friend

Xander was back from moving the van within ten minutes. Ten minutes in which Wesley had elegantly shut down yet another irritated spat between Big Mike, Emmett, and himself. Wesley didn't scare easily, and neither of them had it in them to manage it. Maybe if Wesley had **really** been the Wyndam-Price he'd been ten years before, but not when he was faking it, as he was.

The one-eyed carpenter-turned-store manager came back in through the front door, a few steps behind the also-arriving John Casey, apparently returning from lunch. Or something along those lines. Xander's eye narrowed again, his brow thoughtful, as he arrowed his way through the store to the assistant manager's office.

"Wes, we have a potential issue," Xander said, as he closed the door behind him.

Wesley looked up, then shifted his glance towards the security camera high in the corner. He shook his head ever-so-slightly, then popped open his attache case. He grabbed a small bag and from it and tossed it to the younger man, who caught it, only bobbling it for a moment. Lack of depth perception, you know.

Xander opened the ties on the bag and emptied its contents onto his hand. He nodded silently to Wesley and then moved into the corner of the office, under the immobile camera, where he crouched down. Dumping the rest of the contents into the bag, Xander took one piece, inspected it, and then placed it on the ground, at the corner where the two walls met. With his thumb, he pressed the marked piece of wood flush with the wall, and then, with a modicum of effort, _into_ the wall. He kept pushing it in deeper until it would go in no further.

Xander rocked back on his heels and looked at where he'd been working. If you didn't know to look for it, you'd never see it, but right there in the corner, at the base of the wall, a simple design seemed to be etched into the wood. Xander stood back up and walked to the front of the office, to the corner that the door was attached to. He shook another piece from the small bag and repeated what he'd done in the first corner.

* * * *

In the store's security room, the screen showing the assistant manager's office blipped, shifting to white noise, then shut down, replaced with a blinking 'NO SIGNAL' on the screen.

Under the Orange Orange Yogurt Shop, the screen showing the same location did likewise. Which made sense, since it was tied into the store's security system anyway.

* * * *

Xander repeated the process twice more, in the remaining two corners of the room, then stood up and looked at Wesley. Wesley closed his eyes for a moment, concentrating, then nodded. "Sanctum is active. So long as that door is closed, noone should be able to see or hear us."

The one who did the work let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "Good. Wasn't sure I got that right."

Wesley smiled, but shook his head. "Xander, you might keep trying to make people think you're incompetent so they'll underestimate you, and that's a good idea, but you keep forgetting that I've known you for along the lines of ten years, and know at least some of what you're capable of. Now, what is it you wanted to talk about?"

Xander had the good graces to look a bit sheepish, but just smiled and shrugged. He pulled the laptop out of the bag he'd carried in earlier and powered it up, calling up some files. "It's about this guy." He turned the computer so Wesley could see it.

"Oh, dear lord!" Wesley responded, pulling his glasses from his face and a cloth from his pocket to wipe them with.

Xander snorted. Wesley looked at him, his eyebrows raised.

"Channel your Inner Watcher much, Wes?" His eyes glanced down at the glasses. Wesley's eyes followed, he blinked, and chuckled. This time **he** was the one with the good graces to appear embarrassed.

"Sorry, sorry. I was just surprised. You see, there was this fellow... well, actually, he wasn't human... it was after Sunnydale collapsed and while you were in London and then Africa." He shook his head and put his thoughts in order. "There was someone in a shape of a man - Illyria called him a 'creature' - who looked exactly like this. He acted as liaison to the Senior Partners. Very, very evil. But Angel drained and then killed him, so this can't be him. It just surprised me."

Xander paused for a long moment, digesting this. "Do Buff and the guys know that Deadboy killed someone who looked like a human? If not, I'd keep it that way. I don't think they'd take it very well."

"As far as I know, they don't," Wesley replied with a shrug. "It needed to be done, he did it. You and I both understand about doing things that need to be done, and I suspect that you might not be quite correct that the others don't understand that as well." He replaced his (now freshly cleaned) glasses back on his nose. "Now, what was this about?"

"Oh, yeah. Sorry. This guy, John Casey, working in the appliance department? I think he's active military."

"Eh? What do you mean?"

"After all the Slayers I've met and trained, I can recognize people who have unarmed combat experience without too much difficulty. They just move differently than others do. And with Soldier-Boy's memories, I recognize the US unarmed styles almost automatically. This guy knows 'em. But there's no reference to him being in the Armed Forces on his personnel record, and it doesn't feel like it's just something he picked up all slapdash and all. That makes me suspicious."

Wesley eyed Xander disbelievingly, but then realized that he **had** just said he knew some of what Xander could do, so it would probably be best to take him at his word. "Then I suggest you keep an eye on him. Not much else you can do at this juncture."

Xander shrugged again, and straightened up, closing the computer but leaving it there on the desk. He looked around. "I'm gonna need some more chairs in here. That one is okay, but I like the Executive chairs better. Can I leave you be for now?"

"Yes," Wesley answered. "I need to look over the sales receipts from last week anyway. It appears that what happened did so while the store manager was out on vacation."

Xander snorted again. "I'm not sure I **want** to know."

"Yes, well, when you accepted this manager position as part of your cover story, you let yourself in for this," Wesley replied, his British upper-lip coming into play.

Xander rolled his eye and headed for the door. "I'm going to get a few more chairs. Maybe see if they have a sofa. And I'm charging it to the Council."

As the door opened, Wes riposted, "You talk like I should care. I'm not a member of the damned thing anymore, as you'll recall."

Xander shook his head and left the room, leaving the door open.

* * * *

It was a few minutes later when Xander approached a shorter man with a beard. "Aha, there you are. Mister Grimes, right? How would you like to make some money?"

"Morgan," Morgan replied. "And always. What do I need to do?"

"Well, I need to pick up a few more chairs for my office, and I need someone to set them up. Those standard chairs are all right, but I like the executive ones better. I'll pay for them myself, of course, and you won't even need to leave the store. How's that sound?"

"Fine by me," Morgan replied. He didn't like to work, but he knew how to do it, at least. Especially if he was gonna make money on it.

"That one and that one, then," the one-eyed man said, pointing to a standard chair and an executive chair. "Can you bring them up to the register?"

Morgan could, and said so. He followed words with actions, and soon enough, both chairs were rung up on Xander's credit card. Then he followed all the way back to the Assistant Manager's office, and blinked, "You're the new manager, then?" He sounded a little irritated about it, but that was to be expected. He'd been hoping that Chuck would have gotten the position.

"Yeah, sent by Corporate to look into things," Xander replied with a nod.

"Then why are you buying these with your own money?" Morgan asked.

"It's easier to get reimbursed than having to go through the process of requisitioning it," Xander said, snagging a folding chair on the way in. Wesley had looked up when they arrived, nodded, and went back to what he was working on. "The easier my life is, the better I like it."

Morgan felt a full-body shiver as he entered the small office, and looked around to see if he could find the source, apparently unsuccessfully. With the door closed behind him, he settled down to setting up the first chair, doing it quickly and efficiently. The faster he was, the quicker he got his money and could get out of here, where it felt like he was betraying his best friend.

Xander, in the meantime, set up the folding chair next to Wesley's chair and looked over his shoulder, saying nothing. It took less than ten minutes for the Buy More worker to set up the chair, and he got up and sat in it to test it. "Feels solid enough," he said, beginning to stand up to get to the other chair.

Wesley glanced up and lifted his hand, "Corpus Corporis, Somnus."

Morgan slumped forward, asleep, and Xander bolted out of his chair to grab him by the back of the shirt, and then glared at Wesley. "Geez, Wes. A little warning, maybe? He could have cracked his head open on the desk."

Turning to look back at the slumped man, Xander added, "Well, this is a bit creepy." Wes, for his part, just smirked and went back to what he'd been working on, as if turning a body off like flipping a light switch was commonplace.

"How do you think **I** feel about it, huh?" came a voice that didn't match either of the other two men. "Heya, Xander. What happened to your eye?"

While holding Morgan's shirt, it looked like Xander had stuck his hand through some other person's head, his hand entering through the back and exiting the mouth. But if the fact the dark-haired one was speaking was any indication, he was fine. Slowly, he stood up and drifted to one side, even as Xander pulled Morgan Grimes' sleeping body backwards to rest on the chair.

"Oh yeah, you weren't actually there for that, were you?" Xander said. "The First Evil's top dog, a misogynistic..." Willow would crow if she ever heard that Xander had used a word like that. "... priest poked it out with his thumb. No worries. It's an old injury. Still hurts occasionally, but I'm used to it."

Then he grinned and added, "And hello to you, Jono. Or, should I say, 'yo, supah-star!'?"

The ghost of Jonathan Levinson rolled his eyes and put his hands on his hips. "I'm never gonna live that down, am I?"

Xander continued to grin. "No, not so much. I'm just teasing you, man. If I'd known about it, I probably would have ended up doing something like that myself. Heck, I did worse myself, even. But it's good seeing you, man. I'd offer to shake hands, but I don't think it'd work out."

A dubious look popped up on Jonathan's face when Xander mentioned having done worse, but he waved it off. "So, from your complete lack of surprise plus the fact that you had a spell ready to put Morgan to sleep, I'm guessing you knew I was here? And what's with the magic I felt as I-- as we passed over the threshold into the room?"

"Well, it was a fair guess," Xander said. "One of the Slayers spotted you. Not in the 'seeing' sense, of course, but they felt your presence, and, after all, the guy is your cousin. At first we all thought you were just missing Andrew, so found the nearest geeky guy who matched up with him."

This time, Jonathan glared, and Xander laughed. "Kidding, kidding. But yeah, we made a fairly educated guess. Wills said that she thought it was likely you hadn't moved on, because you hadn't completed your goals in this life. That you were a... wait a second, I remember. A dogtag?" He shook his head and took a pad out of his pocket, to open it. "Oh, here it is. A dybbuk? She said you'd know what it was."

Jonathan looked thoughtful, and then nodded, "I do, and she's probably right. I have been feeling a bit... empty." He looked down at his translucent body. "No pun intended."

Xander just grinned again. Though he'd never had much to do with the shorter man (now ghost), it was incredibly good to see people from Sunnydale no matter how it happened. And, for a ghost, Jonathan was a lot more confident than he had been before, which was, in Xander's opinion, of the good. "Oh, and the magic - well, that one, at least - is a sanctum spell. So long as the door is closed, such that there is an unbroken line on all of the walls, no matter how small, no signal - video or audio - can escape. It's the same spell we use on most of the Slayer houses, some kind of... Wes?"

"It's a type of rune magic," Wesley said, without looking up. "The source is Old Norse, originally, a way to make a place 'safe.' As an aside, so long as the door is closed, noone outside will be able to hear us talking either." He paused. "And, considering that..." He looked at the door, and intoned, "Obfirmo." Then he went back to his work.

"Elegant," Jonathan said, approvingly. "And I'm guessing your cellular phones and the like are enchanted to work through it." While the other two nodded, he blinked, and said, "Wait, you said 'slayers'? One of the Slayers felt me? Someone killed Buffy?" He seemed saddened, thinking the class protector was gone... even though he'd tried to kill her a time or two himself. "Or was it the other one, what was her name... Faith?"

Xander shook his head immediately, "No, no. Both Buffy and Faith are alive and well. See, there's been a bit of a change. In order to survive fighting the First Evil - which would be the creature that convinced Andrew to kill you - we got desperate. Willow used the Scythe, a weapon connected to the Slayer line, to turn every potential Slayer actually _into_ a Slayer. There are nearly 2,000 Slayers now."

Jonathan's jaw hung open, looking awed. "Two **thousand** Slayers? You're friggin' kidding me."

"Just the truth, man. Scout's honor," Xander replied. It probably would have helped if he'd ever actually _been_ a Boy Scout, but that's neither here nor there. "And, in any case, it was Colleen that felt your presence, and she was here long enough to determine that it was you. Or that it was Morgan, that is. Research did the rest."

"Colleen?" Jonathan thought for a moment. "I don't remember anyone by that name around here much."

"You probably know her by her first name," Xander said. "Louise."

Jonathan blinked and, once again, his mouth dropped open. "Lou... as in Chuck's Lou?"

"I guess," Xander said, with a shrug. "She didn't talk much about it, other than not being particular happy, but wanting to be sure to report what she felt anyway."

"Wow," Jonathan muttered to himself. "Lou's a Slayer. I couldn't tell at all."

"I'm sure you would have if you'd known," Xander said, though he wasn't actually sure about that at all.

Jonathan waved it off, and shifted topics again, "So, you had a fairly good guess I was here, and came looking for me. Was it just to tell me I was a dybbuk?"

Xander smiled uneasily, and lifted one finger to scratch under his nose. He glanced over at Wesley, and then looked back, took a deep breath, and replied.

"We came to ask for your help."

Author's Notes: With thanks to my reviewers (I love reviews!), I was reminded that Adam Baldwin (John Casey) also played a role on Angel, that of Marcus Hamilton. Also, John Casey has given indications on the show that he is a former Air Force pilot.

Rachel Bilson (.com/name/nm1377375/), who portrayed Lou, also portrayed Colleen in BtVS. Colleen only appeared once, in the episode Dirty Girls (7x18) and, in fact, only appeared in one scene - Xander's semi-erotic dream where she and Caridad (Dania Ramirez, who plays Maya on Heroes) tried to seduce him.

I don't speak Latin. I used to get the translations: Corpus Corporis is 'Body', Somnus is 'Sleep,' and 'Obfirmo' is 'lock.' If there's anyone out there who'd like to help me with my Latin in the future, please feel free to review (in private or not).

A dybbuk (.org/wiki/Dybbuk) is a possessing spirit in Jewish folklore, one that usually sticks around because the soul has not completed their role in life. Even though the Wikipedia article listed here says so, not all dybbuks are malicious. Jonathan certainly isn't. Also, both Jonathan and Willow are (at least originally) Jewish, so it's quite likely that both know what that word means, especially since both of them likely have done a lot of reading related to the supernatural.

The 'nearly 2000' number for the number of Slayers comes from the Buffy Season 8 comic books. I'm not using them complete, but I'll probably pick-and-choose other little details from them at other times.

And yes, Jonathan is one my favorite Buffy characters. Specifically, my second-favorite relatively-normal one (after Xander). So when I started writing this, I knew I was going to have to find a way to bring him into things.


	6. Chuck Versus the Lesbian

"Thank you for choosing the Orange Orange! Please come again!" Sarah Walker said as she served another customer. It'd been busy for the last twenty minutes or so. Not only did she have her regular customers - and, strangely, the Orange Orange, for all the short time it had been around, did have regulars - but that group of girls was here again.

And the one with the long hair was... was... _looking_ at her again. Now, Sarah knew she was an attractive woman, and it was hardly the first time that a woman had looked at her that way. She'd even used that attraction on occasion during her assignments, but this was the first time that she felt... well, almost like she was threatened. Or maybe it was just dominated. There was something about the other woman that made her nervous, that she didn't like. She was usually the 'alpha' female, and Sarah was getting the feeling that she ran a close fifth next to these other four girls.

So, she decided to do something about it. She couldn't deal with it right now, not with the memories of Sunnydale floating just under the surface. So she went back into the kitchen, pulling out her cellphone.

* * * *

_Damn,_ Kennedy thought to herself. _The good ones really __**are**__ all taken or straight. And __**damn**__ but Slayer hearing sucks, sometimes._

Kennedy was sitting in the Orange Orange idly spinning her spoon in her bowl. She and the rest of her Fast Strike team had arrived the previous day, and begun scouting the location. Once done with that, of course, they had all zeroed in on the Orange Orange. While it wasn't ice cream, frozen yogurt came close enough to heaven that they wanted to enjoy it. Hey! They might all be Slayers, but they were girls too!

In the five years since the closing of the Sunnydale Hellmouth, Kennedy had done a lot of maturing. No longer quite the brat that she had been in Sunnydale proper, she'd been honored to be chosen to head one of the three teams allocated to the West Coast. Fast Strike teams normally roamed their territory, putting down uprisings of evil when and where they found them. There was, however, an exception to that. Fast Strike teams were also called in to scout an area where members of the Watcher's Council would be putting in a lot of time. This usually meant the Scoobies, of course, but that was besides the point.

When it had been decided that Xander would take a job at the Buy More to see if their educated guesses about Jonathan Levinson were correct, her team had been rotated in to handle the area. That was probably for the best; Rona and Vi, the leaders of the other two teams, still had something of schoolgirl crushes on Xander. The truth was that most of the girls who'd ever met him did. Kennedy herself didn't quite get it, but then, she didn't exactly play that side of the field. Oh, she understood in a purely mental way: Xander had been fighting this fight since he was fifteen without any of the Slayer benefits, but his personality had remained pretty much the same the entire time. He was, in a very real and more than mystical way, the heart of the Scoobies, the heart of the Slayers. And, for her personally, her Willow's heart.

And even she could admit, even after losing his own, that he wasn't exactly hard on the eyes.

She sighed, mostly to herself. She and Willow had been broken up for more than four years now, since almost a year to the day after Sunnydale collapsed, and yet she still thought of Willow as 'her Willow,' sometimes. It was hard, but she threw herself into her work instead. It felt... it felt **good** saving people's lives, even if they never knew that you'd done it for them. But, right now, she wasn't feeling so good, and it was just because of her damned Slayer hearing. She could hear both sides of Sarah's phone call, and she knew the other Slayers at the table could as well.

* * * *

Just as Chuck was settling down behind the Nerd Herd main desk, his cellphone started to ring. Flipping it open, he recognized the number; it was Sarah's. Which was kind of a surprise, seeing that he'd just seen her not long ago. He pressed the button to answer and placed the phone to his ear.

"Hiya," he said, glancing around a little nervously at the other employees nearby. "Can't get enough of me, so you needed to call?" Hey, at least Morgan wasn't there to be nudging him and giving him a thumbs up. And making things worse. He cared for Sarah, but they could never really have anything together while he was the Intersect and she was duty-bound to protect him.

"I need you to come back here and kiss me senseless," came Sarah's whispered reply.

Chuck nearly dropped the phone.

"Whaaaa...." He cleared his throat, looked around again, and repeated, "_**WHAT?!**_"

"I need you to come back here and kiss me senseless," Sarah repeated. Then she explained. "There's a group of girls here at the store. I think they're lesbians." That was only Kennedy, but Sarah couldn't be blamed for not noticing the difference between someone looking at you with romantic interest and the someone looking at you with the standard cautiousness of an on-duty Slayer. "And I think one of them is intending to ask me out."

For a moment, Chuck entertained the idea of watching Sarah and another girl together. He stopped himself before he drooled.

Hey, whatever else he might be, Chuck was male! And what she was describing was very nearly the holy grail!

"It's not the first time this has happened." _Concentrate, Chuck! __**Concentrate**__!_ "But I can't deal with it right now. So I need you to come 'stake your claim' to me." Sarah hadn't stopped whispering despite the fact that Chuck hadn't said a word.

"Uh, okay," Chuck squeaked. "I'll be there in a few. Bye."

* * * *

Kennedy looked absolutely dismal. It wasn't like she had a girl in every harbor, as it were; there weren't that many women who drew her interest anymore. No Slayer did - they were each too much of a predator to be willing to submit to another predator in that way.

The rest of the team commiserated, and brought the conversation back up to normal levels to try and distract her. It didn't work, but she was glad they tried. It wasn't as if they knew each other very well. The teams weren't constant, after all. People rotated in and out, both from other teams and other postings. It was a good way to get more than one kind of experience.

_I guess if I cannot have her...,_ Kennedy thought to herself. _... then I will play Cupid!_ She grinned at that. Sure, it hurt her heart, but doing the good thing always seemed to make it feel a bit better.

_Got to manage the timing just right, though,_ she thought to herself. Slayer sight presented Kennedy with the approaching Chuck far in advance of when Sarah herself would see him, so she stood up, doing her best to look hesitant, and began to walk over to the counter, where Sarah had just come back out.

"So," Kennedy said, purposely twirling her hair in her fingers coquettishly. "I'm... we're new in town and I was wonder if you would be interested in..."

The door slammed open, revealing Chuck standing there. He was carrying a bouquet of flowers, a touch that even Sarah hadn't expected.

"Sarah!" Chuck said, blowing things a bit out of proportion in how he was doing this. "I saw these flowers and immediately thought of you, so I had to come see you!"

Chuck strode directly through the store, braced one hand against the counter, and hopped over it. _Carmichael. Charles Carmichael,_ he was thinking to himself. _Do it like he would do it._

It probably would have helped if he hadn't kicked the register and nearly lost his balance in the process, but he recovered quickly. He thought he might have screwed it up, but a side glance to the dark-haired girl on the other side of the counter showed an awed look directed at the two of them.

Kennedy could be a good actress when she wanted to be. She knew that this was mostly an act put on for her benefit, so she was humoring them.

Chuck straightened and pulled Sarah bodily against him, mashing his lips against her own.

Now, let's take a brief moment to remember some things. Three weeks prior to this, in order to try and find the Cipher, a critical part of the new Intersect, John and Sarah had brought Chuck to Agent Roan Montgomery, a legendary lover/spy along the lines of James Bond, to teach him how to seduce another spy.

Roan also promised to teach him how to seduce Sarah. That never happened, of course, but Chuck **did** learn a thing or two.

Sarah almost moaned against Chuck's mouth. He'd never, ever been this aggressive before. But, then again, she'd never told him to kiss her senseless before, so he was just trying her best. A little part of her mind, one that making itself more and more difficult to ignore, reminded her that she had feelings for Chuck. Damned it all. She cared for Chuck, but she knew they could never really have anything together while he was the Intersect and she was duty-bound to protect him.

Still, she could play the femme fatale. It wouldn't even be that difficult. So she draped herself against Chuck and returned his kiss, ignoring for the moment that they had 'broken up' and living in the possibility for just that one moment.

Kennedy's eyebrows shot straight up. If this was fake, she was as straight as a steel-shafted arrow. This was no act! What the hell?! Why was she calling him to fake this when she felt this way about him? Why was he faking not feeling anything for her?

For a moment, she looked back at her table, as if to ask if they saw what she saw. And they did. So... no time to **play** Cupid. Time to **be** Cupid, even if these two idiots were too stupid to see it for themselves.

Kennedy cleared her throat, and Chuck and Sarah finally separated, both of them looking more than a little disoriented, both of them flushed. Chuck lifted the bouquet of flowers and held it between them, not trusting his voice. He noticed how much she was blushing, but the only thing he could think of was that that was just how good an actress she was.

"So, I guess me asking you out is a bad idea, eh?" Kennedy said, looking at Sarah. She tried to look wistful. "I'm Kennedy, by the way. Like the President, but it's a first name."

_Thank all that is holy,_ Sarah thought. _It worked._ "I'm Sarah, and this..." Here she blushed. Again. "... this is Chuck."

"So where are you guys going out tonight? I mean, well, what I was saying was true - we're new in town, and were wondering where the dating hotspots were." So they could pick up guys, girls, or prowling vampires, of course. "After that, I have to think you guys are going out, right?"

Kennedy suppressed a smile. Even if they weren't going out, now they would have to in order to not make her 'wonder'.

"Um, well," Chuck stuttered. "There are a couple of dance clubs. I mean, I dance like a chicken on electroshock..."

That got a laugh from all four Slayers, which confused the hell out of Chuck. Kennedy explained, "My... our best guy friend, he dances the same way." The three other girls nodded. "We love him all the more for it. He's always trying to cheer us up, make us happy. He's a great guy." This was mostly directed at Sarah, for reasons she would not let herself understand.

Chuck didn't know what else to do, but turned back to Sarah, and asked, "So... do you want to go?"

With the four girls watching her, she couldn't say no. But this hurt more than she thought it would. She wanted so much to tell him how she felt, but she couldn't. If she did, she knew the first thing that would happen is that she would be replaced. And she couldn't do that, couldn't let that happen.

"I guess so, sure," Sarah replied.

The four Slayers all grinned. "It's a date!" Kennedy said. "So, tell us where it is, and we'll say 'hi' when we get there."

One of the others winked at Chuck - who blushed, himself - and added, "Hanging out with five cute girls like us will really up your reputation. We guarantee it."

Chuck blinked at the Slayer, looked back to Sarah - who he still had his arms around - and smiled. Looking down into her eyes, he said, "Sounds like fun."

Author's Notes: This chapter surprised me. During BtVS, I... well, let's just say I really did not like Kennedy. So, when I woke up this morning and this chapter was beating at the back of my head screaming 'Write me! Write me!', I did not expect it. Also, I wanted to be sure I wrote enough on the 'Chuck' side to balance the 'BtVS' side, and this seemed the perfect opportunity.

I'll leave it up to my reviewers: suggest people you'd like to see as members of Kennedy's Fast Strike team. I haven't named any of them purposely, because I wanted to give people a chance to join in. I'm sharing the wealth


	7. Chuck Versus the Gossip

Author's Note on Time frame: This takes place, time-wise, after chapter 4, but before chapter 5, or at least starts there. It's definitely before chapter 6 (which takes place about 10-20 minutes later). Because of this extremely short period of time, the chapter is going to be shorter than the last couple of chapters. But don't worry, the big ones will be back next, when we return to our Xander/Jonathan conversation.

It only took a minute or two, at most, for Anna Wu to return the dolly to where she'd gotten it to help Xander unpack his van, but that was enough time to help her get her head back on straight. Mostly. She was still a little distracted, and it was noticed by her fellow Nerd Herders. Or, at least, by one of them.

"Hey, Anna," Lester said. "You look weirded out. What's up?"

"That guy is our new Assistant Manager," she said.

"What, the lawyer guy? I thought he was from Wolf... place?"

"No, the other guy," Anna said, shaking her head. "The guy with the eyepatch."

"Wait, wait...," Lester said. "Maybe we should get everyone over here for this." He stepped out from behind the Nerd Herd desk and grabbed the nearest green shirt he could find. "Hey, get everyone. Anna's got some news."

It took about five minutes to collect everyone around the Nerd Herd desk. Well, except they couldn't find Morgan, Chuck, or John. Well, and Big Mike was in his office, yelling at someone on the phone. And noone really cared enough about Emmett the Efficiency Expert to invite him. "So, what's the deal?" one of the green shirts, a chunky fellow with curly blonde hair.

"Anna, tell 'em what you told me," Lester said.

"That guy - the one with the eyepatch? He's our new assistant manager," Anna said. She felt better now, and it was actually kind of fun being the one who had the 'scoop' for once. There were times that she felt like she didn't have a clue what went on around her.

Little did she know that that was because she didn't. But she couldn't be blamed for not knowing one of her coworkers was a NSA assassin and another one had all of the information ever found by the U.S. Intelligence agencies in his head.

"What?!" came the collective response. A lot of murmuring started as the varied employees of Buy More discussed this latest information.

"I help him bring a couple of display cases and some other stuff in," Anna said, drawing everyone's attention back to her. "There's more. That guy, even with one eye... he sees things."

Jeff Barnes, the Buy More's second-oldest employee (after Big Mike) grinned, "Cool. He drops acid? Figures the guy'd fit in here."

Apparently, Jeff's head (and most of the rest of his body) were still in the 1980s.

Anna turned her gaze on her fellow Nerd Herder, filled with disdain. "No. He sees things. About us. We were together maybe five minutes and he knew I did martial arts. He said he could tell just by how I moved. I've worked with some of you for years and you didn't know that. It's not in my personnel records, I've seen them."

"I'm saying that if he saw that in me that quickly, if he sees like that into all of us, that things are going to change here. No more purposely avoiding difficult customers. No more avoiding the bad jobs, like the baby changing station. No more sleeping in the john. No more hour-long smoke breaks. Don't you get it?"

This caused a louder set of murmurs, but Anna overrode it. "I'm not done."

When things settled down again, she continued, "You saw him wearing a suit, right? Did you know he was wearing a gun underneath it?"

Once again, the collective "What?!" sounded throughout the group.

"He didn't bring it back in with him when we brought the display cases in, but he had one, yeah," Anna continued. She, of course, didn't know that he would bring it back in when he pulled the van back around to the front.

"He took it off when he took off his jacket to get the display cases," Anna went on. "I guess he didn't want it bouncing against his side or anything. He also rolled up his sleeves, which..." Here she paused and looked at the group, to see who was there. Or, more precisely, who **wasn't** there. "... which, I admit, wasn't too bad. He looks... strong." And this time, Anna was looking directly at the only other female employee at the Buy More. "But I also noticed that he has a lot of scars. And they didn't look like tool scars."

Here, she paused again, "I mention that 'cause, apparently, he makes his own furniture. The display cases, I mean. He said he made them, himself."

This blow was almost as bad as the 'he will make you actually **work**' one, and they all knew it. If a guy like him, with only one eye, could hand-make wooden furniture, what kind of excuses could they come up with to sluff off of work? There was just very little that could trump that.

"But... I know it doesn't help much, but he seems like a nice enough guy, from what little I saw of him. I guess that's everything." She didn't really think that mentioning an obsession with snack cakes was all that important.

With that, the majority of the green shirts returned to various places in the store. Morgan came out of one of the back rooms.

Five minutes later, John Casey came back in, carrying the leftovers of his lunch as he finished them off. Xander Harris followed him in, his eye narrowed in thought.

After another five or so minutes, Chuck got back. As he slid onto his seat behind the Nerd Herd desk, he noticed that the three already there were a bit tense. "What's going on?" he began to say, but his cellphone started ringing. Checking the caller ID, he saw that it was Sarah, and smiled, flipping it over to answer it...


	8. Chuck Versus the Ghost

"You need my help," Jonathan said, his face saying it all. "What can **I** do for you? I can't even touch anything."

"In this world," Xander replied with a nod. "But you should be able to interact with other ghosts just fine. And that's part of the issue we're hoping to get you to look into."

Xander took a deep breath, and paced over to settle to a seat on the corner of the desk that Wesley was working at. "A bit over a month ago, I was in London when something happened. I was visiting with Willow when... well, I'm sure that Wills would describe it differently, but it started when I felt a cold shiver run down my spine. And then we were, for lack of a better word, visited."

"Before I go on, I should say that we weren't the only ones so visited. At the very least, everyone with any connection to the supernatural who'd been in Sunnydale originally was. But, in our case..." He broke off again, clearly having difficulty with this.

"We were all visited - and attacked - by the ghosts of people we weren't able to save. Ones who died because of supernatural causes, or at the hands of supernatural beings. As you can imagine, there were plenty of spirits to go around." He stopped again. "But the one that got to Wills and me, it was Jesse."

Jonathan's eyes widened, as the reason why Xander was having such issues talking became clear. He remembered Jesse - the three of them had been a group, Xander, Willow, and Jesse, always together, usually laughing and otherwise having fun. It had been one of the things that he'd been a bit jealous of back then, that those three each had each other, and he didn't really have anybody.

But Jonathan hadn't known that Jesse had died due to supernatural causes. He just knew that Jesse had disappeared. Though he probably should have figured it out, once he'd known about the Hellmouth. But it wasn't like he could have asked, after all.

"If it'd been anyone else, well... I won't be so callous to say that we could definitely have dealt with it, but... well, I already told you about all the Slayers being activated. Willow's one powerful Wicca these days. But, against Jesse?"

Neither Xander nor Jonathan noticed that Wesley had stopped moving. He hadn't lifted his head to look at either of the people he was sharing the office with, but he was clearly listening closely.

"I had to do some things that I hated doing," Xander said. "It was all I could do to ward him out, see. Even I could make a basic warding circle where we were. And it actually was Jesse, not just an apparition or anything like that. He knew things. Things that only Willow and I knew. And he blamed us. Blamed us for living when he'd died. It was awful."

Once again, Xander's voice faltered, and he didn't continue, not for well over a minute. His head dropped so that his hair covered the upper part of his face. The other two didn't say anything, so as not to intrude on the speaker's private grief.

"Eventually, it stopped. We don't know why, nor why it started. Several of our magical personnel didn't make it through. One of the watchers and two of the new Slayers died as well, one of them protecting her Watcher. It was a hard blow for us, and the way things are continuing are making us nervous. Really nervous."

Xander went on, his voice regaining strength as he left the memories of what had happened with one of his first best friend's ghost behind. "Since that day, reported ghost activity has increased nearly ten-fold. Slayers across the world are encountering them with higher frequency than ever before, which scares the bejeezus out of them, because they can't really fight them."

"Here in California... well, just to give an example, we're getting at least one report every day of a sighting of some kind on the Queen Mary in Long Beach. That's roughly a 3,000% increase over what we were getting beforehand, but it's quite possible that there had been some that weren't reported before, just like it's possible some aren't even being reported now. Also, the Whaley House in San Diego is active again, and we're hearing reports about Bloody Mary from all over the place." He mutters something about 'damned kids' under his breath there.

"In short, something is stirring up ghost activity around the world. That's what we're coming to you for help for. We're hoping you can give us some indication, some pointer, **something** to help us with this. Or, if you can't, can find someone who can. As for why you?"

Xander hesitated again. "Andrew told us, Jonathan."

Jonathan blinked at the non-sequitur, though he did bristle at the name of his fellow Trio member. "What did he tell you?"

"He's really sorry, by the way. When he found out that we were going to be coming here to potentially see you, he wanted to come along. I said 'no.' Mostly because he drives me friggin' insane, but also because we didn't want to start off hostile to each other."

Jonathan grit his teeth, but gestured for Xander to go on.

"He told us that part of the reason you came back to Sunnydale in the first place was to tell us about the Seal of Danzalthar, that you wanted to join us and help out. To repent, as it were, and seek redemption. And that he misled you, even though he, himself, was being misled by the First."

For his part, Jonathan wasn't quite so forgiving, though he did understand that having to spend five years with Andrew Wells might drive anyone insane, so he didn't hold it against Xander. Instead, he grew thoughtful. "You said this thing happened a month ago. Would it happen to have been the night of September 21st?"

Xander immediately stiffened. "Yes. How did you know that?"

Jonathan frowned. "I didn't, but... that night, I felt some strange things. There was a tugging sensation, but it wasn't strong enough to break me free from Morgan's body. I... I had a bad feeling about it too, so I fought it off."

Xander nodded again. "It was one of the things that we noticed. Well, that Andrew noticed. He was bleating about a lot of things, really, but one thing he did point out was that it was probably you that he injured the most, but you didn't show up to haunt him." Xander would NOT mention the major headache that all of Andrew's whining had caused him. He'd somehow construed Jonathan's lack of showing up for him being unforgivable, for him not even being worthy to ask for forgiveness. "That, combined with Colleen's report, and our finding out that Morgan here was your cousin, was what, basically, lit a fire under us to come find you."

Jonathan was quiet for a few moments, drifting slightly in place. He chewed on his bottom lip silently, and then, finally, asked, "So, what's in this for me?"

Xander's eyebrows went up. "Huh?"

The ghost shook his head again. "Oh, don't get me wrong. I'm not saying I won't help, but I've been out of this whole thing for going on four years now. My life, such as it is, is relatively calm. Even amusing, since my cousin's quite the funny guy. So I'm sure that you guys came up with some kind of incentive for me here."

Xander grinned at that. "You do know us, don't you?" He looked over at Wesley for a moment, then back at Jonathan.

"Well, the first thing is your status as a dybbuk... I am saying that right, right?" At Jonathan's nod, Xander continued. "Willow said that a dybbuk often remains because they don't feel that their duty is done, that they haven't completed what they wanted to do in life. Andrew said that you came back to Sunnydale to help gain your sense of repentance and redemption, which he cut off."

That was a summation, basically. Andrew had actually gotten on quite a few nerves during the actual discussion.

"So, we were thinking that this might be what you could do, that it might be what would let you move on to Heaven or whatever is next. And it'd be something pretty much only you could do, so, whatever happens, you would be the one doing it. But, even if that isn't the case, Willow and the rest of our research division are working on a way to give you back your own body."

Jonathan's eyes bulged, but Xander continued talking. "Apparently, it's a lot harder to do than it was for Wesley, though I'm given to understand that that wasn't all that easy in the first place."

Wesley actually winced. He'd known that that was something Willow and the others were working on, but he'd hoped that it wouldn't have come up.

"Wait," Jonathan said, his attention turning to the older man. "You were dead? And now you're not? How come?" There was a wistful wanting tone to his voice.

Wesley sat back in his chair, and sighed. He took off his glasses to polish them, intentionally this time. It was an effort to delay, but it didn't last long.

"Will... er, Miss Rosenberg brought me back." His tone was very hesitant, as if he didn't want to talk about it.

* * * *

_A flash of lightning broke through the lavish boardroom, and a yawning portal of white light appeared._

_"All right," came a voice. "**This** is so not where I expected us to come out."_

_Stepping through the portal was the red-haired woman that was known as one of the most powerful Wicca on Earth. The portal spread out, flaring with light, and vanished, leaving the room filled with women. Blondes, brunettes, and redheads, all armed to the teeth, all antsy and spoiling for a fight._

_"But it makes sense, Red," was the Boston-accented response. "Over here."_

_Willow Rosenberg squeezed herself through the crowd to join the leather-clad Slayer, the last of the original line, to find two bodies. The head of one, clearly demonic, looked like it had been... disrupted. But the other, the other was familiar._

_"Oh, no, no, no, no, no...!" Willow outright whimpered. "If he's here, we have no way of getting there!"_

_"If you mean a way to get to where the others are fighting, I believe I can help with that," a male voice replied, with a British accent._

_Willow looked up, then down at the body at her feet, then back up again. "Whoa. Deja Vu."_

_"Actually, not quite," Wesley Wyndam-Price's ghost said. "I'm frightfully sorry for this, but is that what you were looking for? To get to the big fight?"_

_"Uh huh," Willow nodded. "Angel called, but my targeting spell can't center on vampires, and I didn't know any of the others well enough and I didn't know where, exactly, you'd all be. Else I would have targeted directly there."_

_"Well, then I'm glad to be of some help then," Wesley's ghost responded, eager to snub the Senior Partners' nose one last time. He gave the direct location, and Willow called for everyone to 'bunch up again and prepare for teleport.'_

_Buffy Summers bounced out of the crowd, carrying the Scythe. "Hey Wes," she remarked. "Looks like you got a bit dead there."_

_"Yes," he remarked. "I had noticed that," he bantered back. "Eh, what are you doing?"_

_"I'm having her take your body," Willow said, as Faith picked up Wesley's corpse. "If we can find some way to fix the damage, I may be able to reattach your soul, since it's, y'know, right here."_

* * * *

Xander explained, taking pity on Wesley, "Willow's told me that a body and soul match each other, that they are locked together in some kind of cycle or something like that. Because Wes' body was there, and his soul was there, once the 'meat' was healed, his body could be reattached to his soul and he would be alive again. If it wasn't his time to die, that is. Which it apparently wasn't. I'm probably seeming to make light out of it, but that's the gist of what I got from Willow. There was also something about the timing of the rejoining too." He waved a hand. "I don't 'get' all of the magic stuff, really. You probably would understand it better than I would."

Jonathan nodded, even as Xander continued. "We later found out that Wes' soul was still there because Wolfram and Hart have an iron-clad contract with him that extends even after death. Apparently, it's normal for their higher-level executives or something."

"Which means that, the next time I die, I become a ghost again as well," Wesley interjected. "It was suggested that we try that in order to figure out this problem, but, as you may well imagine, I rather didn't like the idea."

Xander shook his head, remembering that, and went on. "Anyway, that's the problem they're researching now, anyway. Your body, unfortunately, is somewhere in the remains of Sunnydale, probably under a significant amount of water. Robin said that he buried your body after he found it. Even if we had your body, it's been more than five years since your death, and... she also said something about you having been killed in a mystical way. I couldn't tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing."

"I got the impression that they're having a hard time of it, so I don't want to get your hopes up," Xander added, this time with a final shrug.

Jonathan was silent for another few moments, and then said, "I want to think about this before I give you a 'yes' or 'no' answer, Xander. If nothing else, then because if I can interact with ghosts, they can interact with me... that potentially places me into danger." The fact that he wasn't quite sure what even one ghost could do to another one didn't come up.

Xander nodded. "Of course. You know where to find me."

Jonathan nodded, then drifted forward to 'sit' back inside of Morgan's body. Xander and Wesley waited a full two minutes before the latter raised his hand, and said, "Corpus Corporis, Excito."

And Morgan began to awaken, absently licking at his lips.

"Have a nice nap?" Xander asked, his tone teasing. "That chair must be really comfortable, man."

Morgan, for his part, bolted upright, head swinging from side-to-side. "Um... I guess. I'm not really sure what just happened."

Xander shrugged, "You fell asleep. No big deal, really. It happens sometimes, especially if you're not getting enough sleep at home. If that's not the case, well, maybe you should have a doctor check you out? Now, if you can finish up the other chair, I'll let you get back to work?"

Morgan, somehow sensing he'd squeaked by without being punished, scrambled up to finish the second chair. It would take less time than the more involved executive chair.

"Am I right in thinking that you guys don't get commission?" Xander asked.

"Yeah, that's right," Morgan said, sounding a bit irked about that whole issue.

"That's kinda what I meant about you making money off this, but I can deal with that. Will twenty be enough? For the labor putting together the chairs, I mean?"

Morgan opened his mouth for a moment, his first thought being to ask for more. But then he thought about how long it'd take him to do this, and that he'd - somehow - managed to fall asleep in the office itself. Twenty bucks for fifteen minutes work wasn't bad at all. "Sure. That sounds great."

"Excellent," Xander said, doing his imitation of Mister Burns (from the Simpsons). He unbuttoned his suit jacket to retrieve his wallet, and Morgan, who happened to be glancing up at that moment, spotted the loaded holster under the jacket, and gulped. Morgan supposed it was good to know that someone was wearing a gun, but why would he wear something like that to a place like the Buy More?

Jerking his head back down, Morgan quickly finished setting up the remaining chair, and quickly tested it, leaping out moments after settling his whole weight on it. He didn't want to fall asleep again. "Thereyago! Need me for anything else?"

Xander looked over at Wesley quizzically before shaking his head, offering a twenty from his wallet. Morgan snagged it so fast that Xander almost ended up with a paper cut, and then bolted from the room.

Outside the office, Morgan turned down an aisle and spotted the person he was looking for. He had good, juicy, info, and he wanted to use it.

"Anna, did you know that that guy is our new Assistant Manager?"

Anna Wu blinked at him, "The one with the eyepatch? Duh."

Well, okay, it was likely that one could have been figured out, but the other one was priceless. "Yeah, okay. But did you know he's carrying a gun on him? Here? In the Buy More?"

Anna blinked a couple more times. "Where have you been for the last hour, Morgan? Everyone in the store knows that. I'm not sure I'm comfortable with it, but it's not really my decision, now is it?"

Morgan stared. And he'd really thought he'd had a good piece of gossip for the rumor mill.

Anna waited and waited, and then finally said, "See you later, Morgan. I need to get back to work."

Author's Notes: Yes, what Xander is talking about is the Rise of the Witness, from episode 4x02 (Are You There God? It's Me, Dean Winchester). Yes, this means that Supernatural (the TV show) is the same world as this is. Yes, that probably means that Xander and company will probably eventually meet Sam and Dean.

That flashback is the one I mentioned in reviews would feature Willow and Wesley. At the time, I hadn't realized that Faith and Buffy would make a showing as well, but then I realized that there was no way Faith would miss out on a fight like that, especially if Angel calls, and Buffy'd come along because a) she's competitive and they'll hardly ever get another chance to compare counts of kills, and b) if the Scythe was going to be used, she would insist on being there anyway.

Why do none of the guys (or, for that matter, any other magic-users) show? Easy. Willow is using the power of the Scythe not only to open the "teleport portal," but also to transport people. That's the reason why she can't target vampires - the Scythe is kinda their anathema. It also means that means she can only transport herself (as caster and intimately familiar with the Scythe) and Slayers. So, no guys, no extra magic-users. For all intents and purposes, Wesley's body is an object, no different from the weapons that all of the Slayers are carrying. (Just thought some people might have an interest in seeing my thought process as to how the magic works, is all. Heck, it makes it easier for me to understand if I write it down first!)


	9. Side Story: No Fading Away on MY Dime!

Timeline: One year past Chosen, four years before the main story, this takes place after the flashback in chapter 8.

Author's Notes: I've read the first fifteen or so 'episodes' of Buffy season 8. I've also read the first four or so episodes of Angel season 6. I think the fact that an entire city gets transported to 'hell' and noone else seems to notice is not only wrong, but just plain stupid. So it doesn't happen in my world. For once, everyone lives. (You'll notice that Gunn was taken to a hospital too, so he doesn't get vamped.)

"Boo," said Spike as he walked out of the shadows at the end of the alley.

Angel turned to him, "Anyone else?"

A shrug came from the younger vampire with a soul, "Not so far. You feel the heat?"

Angel looked back. "It's coming."

Thunder crackled overhead, and Spike rubbed his hands together. "Finally got ourselves a decent brawl."

"Damn! How did I know the fang boys would pull through?" called the voice of Charles Gunn as he came running down the street towards them, though his steps were becoming less sure and weaker as he got closer. "You're lucky we're on the same side, dogs, 'cause I was on fire tonight." His voice nearly petered out, and he finished, "My game was tight."

Reaching the two vampires, Gunn nearly collapses, only to be caught by the two and helped to a box he can sit on. "You're supposed to wear the red stuff on the inside, Charlie boy," Spike commented, while looking over the black man's wounds.

Gunn looked down at the wounds, but only asked, "Any word on Wes?"

Illyria jumped down from the chain-link fence behind Angel. "Wesley's dead."

Spike hung his head, and Gunn cried, but Illyria continued. "I'm feeling grief for him. I can't seem to control it. I wish to do more violence."

Spike, looking over at the approaching crowd of demons, replied, "Well, wishes just happen to be horses today."

"Among other things," Angel said, as a huge winged dragon roared, flying angrily towards them.

"Okay," Gunn said. "You take the 30,000 on the left..."

Illyria looked over at the man, "You're fading. You'll last 10 minutes at best."

Gunn eased himself to his feet, "Then let's make 'em memorable."

The four stand, ranged against the oncoming horde of demons. Spike asks, "In terms of a plan?"

_Now would have been a good time,_ Angel thought to himself. _But I guess she couldn't get through._ "We fight."

Spike looked at his grandsire, "Bit more specific."

Angel stepped forward, and a faint smile came to his face, "Well, personally, I kind of want to slay the dragon. Let's go to work." He lifts his sword.

"And then there's me. I call dibs in the giant cyclops. It's been a while since I've had a good one-eye under me..." came in a Boston-accented voice, followed up with, "... and someone please tell me that I did not actually say that out loud."

The surprised looks on the four's faces were shown in sharp relief as a flare of white light turned night into day.

"Lookie, Faith, they got me a war! Ooooh! They know just the kinds of gifts I like!" This sardonic voice was Californian, and, judging by the dropped jaws of the two vampires, a known one.

When their eyes cleared, they found the alley behind them considerably more full. At the front of the new group stood three women: one, a tiny blonde, a leather-clad brunette, and a redhead in flowing colors. The two women to either side were both holding axes over one shoulder, one rather normal looking, and the other rather distinctive. The brunette had what appeared to be a human body over the other shoulder. A very familiar-looking body.

The demon horde hesitated, and that was long enough for the same voice to cry, "Hi honey! I'm hooooooooooome!" And then, "Combat teams, move out!"

A loud shout echoed from thirty... forty... fifty throats, and young women blurred past the four remaining members of the Fang Gang, charging into the horde of demons, wielding axe, sword, spear, and several other, more esoteric, weapons.

"Leave some for me!" called Faith, easing her burden down before also charging into the fray, her axe flashing as she removed arms, legs, and any other appendage a demon who dared get in her way had available.

"And good on you, Spike, for bothering to let me know you were alive," Buffy said, the Slayer Scythe still across her shoulder. "So to speak."

"But, but how...?" Spike stuttered.

"I only called Faith," Angel said. "I didn't expect this. I thought you didn't trust us anymore?"

Buffy's brows furrowed in apparent confusion, but she shook her head. "Fight now, talk later." And then she was running into the horde as well.

For a brief moment, Spike and Angel looked at each other, and then Spike remarked, "Well, she always **did** have her priorities." They too charged into the fray.

Gunn, his homemade axe in hand, limped towards the horde. He didn't make it very far, stopped by a girl with dark hair bobbed in a boy's style. She was carrying weapons as well, but making no moves to join the war going on tens of feet away.

"You're not going anywhere, Mister Gunn," came the voice of the redhead he knew as Willow Rosenberg. "Renee, get him wrapped up and all first-aided, then get him to the closest hospital. Leah, knock down that fence and clear a path for Renee and Gunn. Be careful with him. He's the Xander of their group." Unnoticed, that brought a flush to the face of the Slayer who had already pulled Gunn's shirt off to get to his wounds.

"But that will just leave you here with Rowena and Satsu for protection," the other redhead, the one who was probably Leah responded.

"If you think I don't know that Buffy chose the top members of her squad to protect me, you really don't know me at all, Leah. I think I'll be fine with two fully-armed Slayers to protect me. Now GO."

For her part, Illyria had been stopped by something shocking. Even to her.

Wesley.

More precisely, Wesley's ghost had appeared just as she was gathering herself to join the combat. "No! Wait, Illyria! Go back to the witch in back. I have an idea."

"You are dead, and I wish to do more violence," was the response of the translucent figure.

"Wait, Illyria. I have an idea. The witch may be able to make me live again."

Illyria almost stumbled. The emotions of these human shells were so hard to understand, but the part of her that was Fred welled up at just the very chance of that happening, grief and hope warring within her. Perhaps she should not have offered to 'lie to him' when he was dying.

But, finally, her shoulders slumped and she turned to head back to the entrance of the alley. "Take me to the witch," she demanded of the Asian-bred Slayer that moved to intercept her.

Wesley's ghost slid by, the Slayer unable to stop him, and stopped by the redhead, who was actually hovering over Wesley's body fretfully. "I have an idea, Miss Rosenberg."

* * * *

"Buffy!" Faith cried, as she left upwards, bouncing off the foot of the cyclopean giant who'd tried to squish her. A second later, the Scythe was flying end-over-end in Faith's direction, replaced by a sword flashing so fast it was almost strobing. The Scythe slapped into Faith's hand as she bounced again, this time off the arm and into the air.

Holding the Scythe and her own axe together, she brought the dual blades down on the giant's neck, slicing through it like it was made of warmed butter. "Watch out below!" she called, as the head fell from the neck. "Yee-haw!" screamed Faith as she rode the dead body down as it collapsed. She bounced off just before it hit and landed smack dab in the middle of a group of six vampires. A full-body spin with the Scythe held at neck-level resulted in her being surrounded by piles of dust.

* * * *

"I suppose I could do it, or at least try," Willow said. "But she has to give me the power freely. I can't take it from her."

"I should think not, muck," Illyria responded, her face the personification of long-suffering. "I will attempt to give you the power. I cannot use it now anyway, so you may as well. If you can use it to bring Wesley back, I will... allow you to try."

"Then sit beside me, here, and place your hand on my shoulder," Willow said, settling beside Wesley's corpse. "You must concentrate on that power, on how you felt when you manipulated time. Even though you can't do it now, it is still somewhere within you. You must lead me there, show me how to find it. And then you must let me go."

It didn't take long. Willow's eyes sagged closed once Illyria put her hand on her shoulder, only to snap open seconds later. Her eyes had changed color, burning an eerie blue like Illyria's own coloration. The color spread up her face and into her hair, bleeding out the red into the very same blue. The color spread down her face and she began to glow. Softly, at first, but then brighter and brighter. Soon, wisps of a blue smoky mist began to rise off of her body, "Ohhhhhhhhh! Ohhhhhhhh!"

Satsu stared, getting rather creeped out, "Do you think we should stop her?"

"You want to give it a try?" Rowena asked. "I'm not sure **I** do."

The blue mist began to coalesce around the witches two hands, and she shook her head violently. "No, no. You don't know what you're looking at. You don't know what you see." She lifted her hands and moved them around, and the mists followed. "I mean, it's pure time... pure space. Ohh! I'm at the threshold, I'm at the headwaters of creation. I feel the whole universe in my fingertips. I feel... I feel it. Infinity! What a rush! What a ride!" Then she went silent for a moment, and croaked out, "Tara?"

* * * *

_Time stopped._

_The misty tunnel that Willow found herself flying through was absolutely silent, except for the music that could be heard on the far side, music that Willow identified easily enough; it was Kosmic Blues in Janis Joplin's traditional tone. The music had been getting louder for hours, or at least it felt that way subjectively._

_And then Tara was there, standing in the way of the rest of the tunnel. This brought Willow up short, tears springing to her eyes. "Tara?" she asked._

_The blonde nodded her head. "We cannot stay here long, love. This is not the place for you. There is a reason this power was given to the Old Ones and not to humans. You are not ready for this power, Willow. Humanity is not ready for it. You must go back. You must remember what you are attempting to do this for. You must remember your friends and the people who love you. You must go back, Willow."_

_"But can't I stay here with you? I want to be with you. I want to always be with you."_

_Tara seemed to smile, but it was a bit sadly. "It's not yet your time, Willow. When it is, I will be waiting. And I am always watching. Always watching over you and the others. I love you, Willow. I love you all. But now, you must go back. Go back, Willow. Save Wesley and the others. They need you. Go back."_

_In the tunnel, Willow turned. Soon, Tara had receded in the distance, though her voice continued to carry. "I love you. I love you. I love you."_

* * * *

"... happening?" the redheaded Slayer asks, worriedly.

"She has opened a temp..." Illyria looked up at the ones she was unintelligent muck she was addressing, and simplified. "A hole in time. It is pulling her in. There is nothing you can do, so you should just stand away."

Willow let out a wail of anguish, and the power - the pure time and space, as Willow had called it - coalesced into the area between her hands. She placed both hands down on Wesley's body, one over his heart, another over his head, and let out another scream, this one of pain.

The blood began to vanish, sucked back into Wesley's body.

The massive hole from which the blood seeped out, it closed.

Wesley's body began to breathe once more.

Willow shook off Illyria's hand and screamed again. She lifted her own hands into the air and expelled the blue wisps of energy in a solid stream that blasted away the storm clouds overhead, leaving the sky clear. But that's not where it ended.

Suddenly, Willow flared white, her eyes and hair changing to that color as well. She turned slightly and reached into Wesley's ghost with both hands, causing him to vanish. She lifted her hands as if holding something, and then slammed them down onto Wesley's chest. She held them there for several seconds before she slumped, falling over. Satsu was quick enough to catch her, while Rowena stayed on guard.

"That was kinda nifty too," Willow breathed, and then collapsed in sleep.

Wesley's eyes fluttered open, and he found himself looking up into the same pair of eyes that he had been looking into when he died. Illyria was gone, replaced by a woman who looked the same... except for without the creepy blue hair, skin, and eyes. The latter were full of tears, as she held onto the man. "Welcome back," she said.

* * * *

Wesley replaced his glasses back on his nose, and said, "And that's how it happened. As you well know, Wi-- Miss Rosenberg was unable to draw any kind of serious power for nearly three months after that happened. Which caused some rather interesting negotiations when the United States could not figure out how all those girls had gotten in without them knowing."

Xander rocked back in the chair, and whistled lowly. "I didn't have any idea. I mean, I read Satsu's and Rowena's reports, but there's really no comparison. It's just... wow. Wow."

"Yes," Wesley said. "That seems a quite concise way of saying it, indeed. Now, we should get back to work so that you can have that store meeting with some idea of what, exactly, is going on here."

"Right," Xander said, and they both bent back to work.

More Author's Notes: On Willow using Illyria's power to move through time to 'heal' Wesley's body, well, Illyria showed that she had the power to move through time in canon in two different scenarios. The first was during season 5 of Angel, of course, but she also shows the ability to a certain extent in the season 6 comics. That means that, even after being hit by the mutari generator, the power is still there, just suppressed. Willow's done channeling with heavy power sources before - that's what the Scythe is, after all, so I just had her do it again.

And if Willow's words when channeling Illyria's power sound familiar, you're absolutely right - and welcome to the Old Movie zone. I took them from My Science Project, a movie that came out in 1985. It's one of the hokiest movies out there, but it's still one of my favorites.


	10. Chuck Versus the Questions Q&A, part 1

Author's Notes: This is part 1 of a two-part chapter. See notes at the end for more information.

The rest of the day was pretty much uneventful. Once Morgan had cleared out of the office, Xander left the door open, mostly so he could make phone calls on the store line. That was one problem with the Sanctum protocol: no signal except one specifically enchanted to go through it could go through it. So, while both Wesley and Xander could use their cellular phones and computers, the store lines themselves were, effectively, dead. Xander had known that would happen, and was curious to see what would, eventually, happen, who would come in to fix it (and the camera) and how they would react to things working just fine when they did.

It sure as hell was confusing the hell out of Sarah and John. When Xander had first initiated the protocol, Sarah was busy upstairs, serving yogurt. Upon rewinding the recording, she saw Wesley toss the bag of runed tiles to Xander, then saw Xander step out of frame of the camera, then back into it, then out of it again as he placed the two tiles in the first two corners. But once she returned to the 'present' on the camera, it was showing video again.

She'd reported both of these things to John by phone call. Casey couldn't really do anything the first time, with the exception of confirming that the store's security system was reporting the same. The door to the office was closed and locked, and it wasn't like he could pick the lock right in the middle of the day, could he? Especially when there was someone inside. John Casey may have **looked** like a bruiser, but you don't get to 'handle' one of the most important resources in the United States without having a lot of smarts too.

When the system came back up, and he got Sarah's phone call informing him of such, John checked the store's security system a second time, and found that it was showing the office again, though the only one apparently in it was the lawyer. The door was open, and John had to do a double-take when he walked past it. The two display cases now had contents instead of just sitting there empty. The unadorned one had books - notably Buy More/Nerd Herd employee manuals. That wasn't that unusual, since it _was_ the Assistant Manager's office.

The one that had the engravings on it was far more interesting. Even at this distance, he knew what those were. Weapons. And not of the firearm type either, which he might have expected from reading Alexander Harris' record. No, there were three weapons hanging inside the display case were medieval-era weapons. The smallest one looked like some kind of punching dagger, though it seemed to be made out of some kind of wood instead of metal. The second one was clearly an axe, but with a larger head than he'd ever seen before. And the final weapon on display was the largest of all three, starting at the very top of the case and extending all the way to the bottom, pointing down. Somewhere in the back of his head, it named itself with the word 'Zweihänder.' It was a two-handed sword with a no-nonsense hilt, shined and apparently well-cared-for. John had no doubt that, were he to handle that thing and not be very careful, he could hurt himself badly with it.

"I'd not think the books were that interesting," said a voice next to the NSA officer's ear, and Major John Casey nearly jumped out of his shoes. It was Harris, pretty much standing right next to him. It bothered him that the kid had managed to move up on him so silently, even if he was distracted by the presence of the weapons. "John Casey, right?"

"Um, yeah, that's right," John said, trying to regain his equilibrium. And succeeding. He wouldn't be a good operative if he remained shaken for very long.

Xander stepped around John to head into the office. "Could you do me a favor and let the others know that I want to do a basic meet-and-greet after we close?" He offered his hand, which Casey took automatically. "I'm Xander Harris, the new Assistant Manager and all. I wanted to introduce myself to everyone."

"Yeah, sure," John said, once again pretty much automatically. "I'll spread the news around."

"Thanks," Xander said, scooting around John and into the office, muttering something about finding a local locksmith.

* * * *

As the day wound to a close, the man with the eyepatch and the lawyer stepped outside, the former seeing the latter off before coming back inside. Instead of going back to the office, Xander headed to the Nerd Herd desk, which was near the center of the store, to wait for people to filter together after the front doors were locked.

It didn't take long. Normally, the employees of the Buy More were known to dawdle, but on a day with this many shocks in it, their curiosity was high. And so, ten minutes later, all of them were in the area around the desk. Up to and including Big Mike and Emmett, who were both grumbling not-so-quietly under their breaths

Xander hopped up to sit on the Nerd Herd desk, cocked his head to one side, smiled, and said, "Hi! I'm Alexander Harris! I like walks on the beach, the wind in my hair, and people who take care not to come up on me on my blind side!" He wrinkled his nose and continued, "I dislike people who purposely walk up on my blind side, and anyone who makes old Cyclops or Nick Fury jokes at my expense, mostly 'cause I've heard most of 'em before!"

Then he stopped, his lips twitching. It didn't take long before amusement was running through most of the group, who quickly realized that Xander was completely kidding around with them. Unsurprisingly, several of them understood the Nick Fury joke as well.

Once things settled down a bit, Xander went on, turning marginally more serious. "I wanted to break the ice a little before I went on. Like I said, my name is Alexander, but you can call me 'Xander.' It's the name my best friend gave me when we were five, and she couldn't pronounce my full name. If you feel you must, you can call me 'Alex,' but please don't use 'Mister Harris.' That's my father, and not really a memory I'd like to be reminded of."

Kicking his legs a little, he continued, "I'm twenty-seven years old, born and raised here in California, though I have spent some time in several other countries, including England and Japan, so if there are times I end up sounding British, it's unintentional. Probably."

Xander took a breath, and went on. "In terms of interests, I tend to be very much a hands-on person. I generally prefer to work in wood, but I also work in metals too. I'm fascinated by medieval weapons, to the point where I've begun learning to smith them. I am by no means an expert or any kind of Master Swordsmith, but I am gradually working my way there. For those that have spotted them already, the three weapons in my display case are ones that I made myself, yes."

Shifting topics while he still had the attention of his audience, he added, "In addition to working here as Assistant Manager until whatever time Buy More Corporate decides to move me, I'm also a live-in administrator of the local chapter of the Jesse McNally Vocational School. That means that I may occasionally have visitors come in to see me during work hours. They are often anywhere from five to fifteen years younger than I am, and they are often female, as the school seems to mostly take in female students for some reason." He asided, "I'm just mentioning this to indicate that I'm not a 'perv' of some kind if you see a teenager come in to see me. I like to think of myself as the 'cool principal' type, or the teacher that students like to visit even after they get out of school, but I'm not exactly the one who can actually say that without obvious bias."

"That said, I'd like to open the floor to questions. I don't know for certain that I'll be able to answer them, but I'll give it an honest shot, if I can."

With that, he went quiet, to see who, if anyone, had something to ask.

(To Be Continued....)

---

Author's Notes: The punching dagger is actually a wooden katar, the axe a somewhat-crude battle axe, and the sword is of Japanese influence.

And yes, it doesn't seem like this chapter is complete, does it? Well, that's because it isn't (and why I labeled it 'part 1'). I'd like to offer the opportunity to my reviewers to provide questions for the Buy More employees to ask Xander during the Q&A session. With many thanks to Ted Carroll and Troy Guffey on XanderZone, I wanted to make the offer here too. So, here's the shpiel!

Have you ever wanted to write a fanfic, but never could get up the gumption to do it? (I know I have. For almost the entire time before I started writing this one.) Have you ever wanted to contribute to a favorite fanfic instead of just reading and commenting? Well, here's your chance! Ladies and Gentlemen, and children of all ages 13 and up: what kinds of questions do you think the employees of Buy More should ask of their new Assistant Manager, Xander Harris. Please review and tell me! (And, if you want, even supply who would ask the question!) I can't guarantee I'll actually *use* all of the questions, but I can guarantee I'll certainly consider them!


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